Down to Nothing
by Naomi Sisko
Summary: A Starfleet cadet struggles with anorexia.
1. Collision

**Down to Nothing**

Jenna's eyes flitted across the console to the sensor readings, back to the runabout controls, then up again as her fingers fell into their familiar routine. She had to squeeze her eyes shut then open again to take away the temporary blurriness. She hadn't had a break in hours, but the runabout's pursuer was unrelenting, and if Jenna so much as stepped away from the console, she felt certain one of the glancing phaser blows would become a direct hit, sending both her and Ensign Nog into oblivion.

Another blast rocked the runabout, and Jenna saw a shower of sparks in her peripheral vision. "Watch out, hew-mon!" Nog valued his life highly, and Jenna would have found his comment annoying if she wasn't already severely ticked off at their attacker.

"I know, I know. Any sign of help yet?" She held her breath. _Please let him say yes._

"We're too far out. Shields down to seven percent."

Not good. "You ready to meet your maker?"

"We are _not_ dying."

Jenna dodged another phaser blast. "Oh, that's good, because I sure thought we were."

Nog opened his mouth for a rebuttal but was interrupted by a hail. "Worf to runabout. Are you in need of assistance?"

"I knew you'd get here, Commander," Nog replied confidently. He smiled an "I told you so" smile at Jenna. A few seconds later, the Defiant cut between them and their attacker, who quickly fled. Jenna breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back before assessing the final damage.

"Shields, five percent. Warp drive is shot. With what they did to our engines, it's a miracle we were able to evade them at all."

"Not a miracle, a skilled pilot." Nog looked at her expectantly.

"I suppose," Jenna replied, "a decent job at tactical as well."

She heard the sound of a transporter beam and looked over her shoulder to see Rom and another engineer materialize behind her. "Ah, the repair team!" Nog said, then greeted his father. Jenna smiled and stood to welcome them, grabbing the back of her chair to prepare for the wave of dizziness she knew would come. Once her sight had returned, she moved away from the console so that the engineers could do their work.

"Cadet Swann, if you want to beam aboard the _Defiant_, we have no further need of you here."

Jenna smiled politely. She was grateful for the invitation, though she felt a responsible officer should stay. But she was so tired. She hadn't had much energy lately, and the battle had sapped her completely. "Thank you, Ensign, I think I will." She stepped on the transporter pad as Nog operated the controls and materialized in the _Defiant_ transporter room. She greeted the transporter technician and asked, "Are there some quarters I can lay down in?"

With clear directions, Jenna set out down the corridor, blinking to keep her vision from blurring. She felt a bit more lightheaded than usual and reached out to run her fingers along the wall to steady herself. Finally, she stumbled into the quarters and collapsed into the cot.

"Cadet Swann." The voice seemed distant. "Cadet Swann." Where was it coming from? Suddenly, she realized where she was, sat up quickly to hit her head on the bunk, then collapsed back into the bed.

"I'm awake," she said, licking her lips, then sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes.

"Um, we've arrived at DS9." Jenna opened her eyes to see the ensign who'd been sent to wake her. He looked concerned. "Do you need to see the Doctor?"

"I'm just tired." She prepared herself to stand.

"Because we tried your communicator, and if that didn't wake you ... You look like hell."

"Nothing a good night's sleep can't cure. Thank you, Ensign."

He shrugged and left. Jenna nursed herself to a standing position and followed suit. Once aboard the station, she went promptly to her quarters and back to bed.

--------------

A calorie-free raktajino after morning calisthenics in the holosuite lifted Jenna's mood considerably. Though she still felt weak and dizzy, she also felt accomplishment, which gave her leave to be alive. She sat by the balcony on the Promenade. Her uniform fit loosely today. It felt good.

Oh-eight-forty hours. Twenty minutes till she had to report for duty. Today's activities did not include runabouts, for which she was grateful, even though piloting was her expertise. The visiting cadets were permitted to attend minor land negotiations concerning Bajor in the morning, then were to assist in a routine subspace analysis of the area surrounding DS9.

Jenna studied the passers-by, comparing her figure to the other women who happened across the Promenade. She took note especially of the legs. She'd always hated hers but had begun to criticize everyone else's as well. Over there, some Klingon women. She'd always considered Klingon women to be unattractive. Nearby, a vendor was selling large candy treats. Jenna was relieved that her stomach remained quiet because of the warm raktajino. It wouldn't last long.

She stood, waited for the dizziness to pass, then deposited her cup in the replicator so that it could be reabsorbed into the system. After that, it was just a quick jaunt down the stairs and to the turbolift, when ...

A rather large Bolian, not paying attention where he was going, plowed into her and sent her sprawling halfway down the stairs. She cursed, embarrassed, then pulled herself up to a sitting position. "OWWW!!" She fell back down and cursed again. This running into things was becoming a habit. Even worse, when she tried to get up again, she saw the doctor running her way. He had seen it all, her little performance, and her face grew hot as she gritted her teeth against the pain and tried to sit.

"Just lay down," Doctor Bashir said as he reached her, pulling out his medical tricorder.

"I can get up." Jenna was sure that if she could sit, then she could stand and walk away.

"No you can't, your hip is broken. We'll have to get you to the infirmary."

Jenna stopped struggling but wore a fierce expression on her face. "I've got to be somewhere in five minutes."

"Yes, the infirmary." He pulled out the small scanner and ran it above Jenna's body. "Well, that's odd ..." He frowned.

Jenna gritted her teeth even harder. Dr. Bashir finished his initial assessment and arranged the transport to sickbay.

Once Jenna's hip was set and treated, she rose to leave, but the Doctor stopped her. "Your pulse rate and blood pressure are very low, as are your electrolytes and many other necessary vitamins and minerals. You have premature osteoporosis, and your weight ..."

Jenna tried to maneuver around him, but he caught her. "Are you listening to me? Your vital signs are absolutely terrible. I need you to stay in the Infirmary for now." There wasn't much she could do to resist, since the dizziness hadn't lifted and she was temporarily blind.

Once she was back on the biobed, the Doctor continued. "Have you heard of a condition called anorexia nervosa?"

She stared at the ceiling. "I don't have an eating disorder."

"What have you eaten today?"

"It's oh-nine-hundred hours. That's not a fair question."

"What did you eat yesterday?"

"I kept a runabout from being blown to pieces, then went to sleep."

"Have you eaten at all this week?"

She paused.

"I thought so."

"I'm thinking!"

"If you have to think, then it's been too long. You weigh only eighty-two pounds. Someone of your height should weigh at least 120."

Jenna sighed. "Listen, Doc, okay, you got me. You let me go, I'll go eat something."

"No."

She narrowed her eyes. "No?"

"I don't believe you." He looked concerned. It made her squirm.

"There's. Nothing. Wrong. With. Me." She tried to sit up again, but his hand had never left her shoulder.

"Do I need to call security?"

She laughed. "C'mon, Doc ..." His face was dead serious.

A sense of panic stirred in her gut. She breathed a little faster. "What do you want me to do then?"

He left her side just long enough to retrieve something. "Drink this." He held out a cup of liquid.

She did not take it. "What is it?"

"Nutrition your body desperately needs."

"Calories."

"If you put it that way ..."

"Bet it tastes horrible." But, in truth, she didn't care how it tasted.

Doctor Bashir adjusted the bed so that Jenna could sit. "I still say I can sit on my own."

The Doctor handed her the cup, took her hand and wrapped her fingers around it for her. "Now, don't try anything. I'll be right over there." He pointed to a desk not ten feet from the biobed. "This needs to be gone in a half hour, or else we do this the hard way."

Jenna wondered what "the hard way" was. Either way, there was no way she was going to drink it. It probably had a thousand calories! There had to be a way around.

Spilling would be too obvious, and the Doctor would just refill the cup. So for the next half hour, she pretended to sip from the cup, then discreetly dipped her fingers in and rubbed the liquid all over her skin. She didn't want to leave a stain on the fabric of the bed; the Doctor might notice that.

She had disposed of almost all the liquid when the Doctor came to check on her. "One more sip," he prompted, and she had no choice but to put it in her mouth. Actually, it didn't taste bad. Probably lots of sugar. "Swallow," he insisted, and with great effort, she did. At least it was only one sip. But that one sip! It probably had at least 200 calories. She promised herself an extra hour of exercise to make up. Even now she tapped her feet together nervously, as much movement as she dared. The Doctor noticed, but he didn't say anything this time.

"So when can I go?"

"I've arranged for your transport to earth on the _Ulysses_. Her doctor will find a treatment program for you there. We're not equipped to deal with anorexia here."

"What about the Academy?" Jenna didn't like the direction this discussion had taken.

"If your treatment is successful, perhaps they'll readmit you next year."

Jenna had been questioning whether she should continue pursuing a Starfleet career, but suddenly that goal seemed all-important to her. "You can't do this."

"I'm sorry, but if you don't get treatment, you could die."

"What do you care?"

"I'm a doctor. It's my job to care."

Stupid question. "That's not what I meant."

The Doctor pulled out a hypospray. "Here," he said, pressing it against her neck, "this will help your body absorb the nutrients more quickly."

--------------

Jenna waited till late in the night before she made her move. She waited till the night nurse had left the room, then she removed her communicator, stashing it under the pillow. She crept out of the Infirmary, slipped through the Promenade to the habitat ring and her quarters. There, she gathered a small satchel of belongings and went to find the empty guest quarters. Once inside, she went to the computer terminal and accessed the docking manifest. After reading the inventory of ships currently docked at the station, she opened a comm channel.

"Captain Brandis," she began, "I have a proposition for you."


	2. Escape

**Down to Nothing, Chapter Two: Escape**

Captain Brandis took one look at her and laughed. "How do you expect to earn your passage, frail child?"

"I have a collection of model ships back on earth. They're actually quite valuable. In the right markets they can bring up to …" she paused for effect … "three bars of gold-pressed latinum."

"Up to? That's no guarantee."

_And I'm no Ferengi. Think, Jenna!_ "I'm a skilled pilot. I can offer my expertise. Perhaps you would care for some guidance system upgrades?"

"That would be more valuable to me than your toys." He spat the last word, and Jenna winced. She'd spent her entire life collecting those models, building some of them herself.

"Good. Then we have a deal."

"You may come to airlock 3A at 0300 hours." The comm channel went blank.

She checked her chronometer. That gives me fifteen minutes. I'd better get going.

Heart pounding, Jenna peeked outside the guest quarters. Seeing no one, she slipped down the hall, hugging the bulkheads, half-running to dodge every shadow she felt certain would grab her. Finally, she reached the docking ring and slowed her pace, composing herself to appear as if she belonged. _I do belong,_ she told herself. _They have no right to restrain me._ Airlock 3A came at last, and she accessed the comm panel to alert Capt. Brandis of her arrival. All too slowly, the bulkhead rolled aside, and she darted inside to refuge.

--------------

Brandis put her to work immediately upgrading systems. "I want to get my money's worth," he told her. At 0600 hours he visited to check her progress. "We depart in one hour. Eat." He tossed her a chunk of bread. She ignored it.

An hour later, she extracted herself from under a console and sat in the pilot's chair.

Brandis signaled Ops. "This is the cargo ship _Atiarana_, ready to depart."

After a pause, the reply came. "_Atiarana_, this is Major Kira. We are conducting routine cargo checks on all outgoing ships. It should only take a few minutes. Prepare to be boarded."

"What?!" Jenna blurted as the comm channel went blank. She knew very well that "routine cargo checks" usually meant Starfleet expected to find contraband. "I thought you were carrying 20 metric tons of quadrotriticale!"

"My cargo is none of your concern."

"What is it? Weapons? Drugs?"

Brandis glared daggers at her. "Get us out of here."

"Without the docking clamps released? Are you crazy?"

"Do you want your Starfleet friends to find you here?"

Jenna paused. It was run or be caught. No, scratch that. With these engines, it was either be caught or run and then be caught.

"There's no way, Brandis. Even with my piloting, it'd take a miracle."

"Then get out of the way!" Brandis knocked her from her chair, and she sprawled across the deck. Nothing broken this time, but bruised, certainly.

The _Atiarana_ strained against the docking clamps as Brandis thrust the engines into forward and reverse over and over again. Dazed, Jenna sat on the floor, lost as to what she should do.

The ship shuddered, and sparks flew. Afterwards, the straining ceased. "They've got our engines!" Brandis drew his phaser, and Jenna decided to get out of the way, choosing the spot under the console where she had worked earlier.

Eventually, Security boarded and a short firefight ensued. Brandis received a stun bolt to the shoulder and was transported to a holding cell, and Jenna briefly hoped Security would overlook her. No such luck.

"Cadet Swann?"

She crawled out from under her console. "I didn't know about … whatever … he was transporting. What _was_ he transporting?"

Constable Odo turned from directing a couple of his officers to search the ship. "You really don't know?"

Jenna shook her head.

Odo walked her way. "You have the right to remain silent. You might want to use that." His hand was heavy on her shoulder as he signaled the transport to her cell.


End file.
